WORDS Henry Longden
Jean Babilée, experimental dancer and Jewish resistance fighter in Vichy France, died on 30 January at the age of 90. He grew up in the 40s, as France fought and gained independence, and a sudden load of freedom affected the spirit and creativity of its people. For Babilée, this resulted in a liberation for male dancing and an organic mode of expression. But what struck audiences most was the presence of an existential angst present in much of his work.
During the occupation his family made a wise decision and changed his name from his father’s Jewish “Guttman”, to the less provocative “Babilée” — his mother’s maiden name. However, this was not enough to curb the growing anti-semitic temperament, and he was forced to leave the Paris Opera Ballet for Monte Carlo in his early teens. His return to Paris saw him narrowly miss the Vel d’Hiv arrests, in which an estimated 12,884 Jews were deported to death camps in Eastern Europe. He joined the rural resistance group, Marquis, and trained as a guerrilla sniper in Touraine. His skills as a marksman were respected; a combination of calm and precision. After sovereignty was won, he reportedly forced his way back to Paris, by holding a car up at gunpoint, returning to an arts world that was redefining itself.
Babilée’s most famous role was grounded in the aftermath of such tragedy. Roland Petit’s Le jeune homme et la mort (overseen by Jean Cocteau) presented a young man waiting in anguish for a woman to visit. Her arrival brings both ridicule and insult, which eventually pushes him to suicide. The drawn out wait for death was performed by Babilée over 200 times in the four decades that followed. The play struck a chord with a generation whose youth was defined by existential threat. He once commented on how he feared for death on the opening night, as the makeshift set left his arm alone in relieving his neck from from the strain of a real noose.
Experimentation and bursts of ferocious freedom took shape as Babilée dissolved the boundaries of the male role in ballet. Many commented on how he had a classically perfect technique, but chose to spring free of it, leaping recklessly into the air. He was applauded for his role as Bluebird in the classical The Sleeping Beauty, but soon progressed to build a reputation as the most extraordinary dancer in the 50s. He also acted on stage and in films, such as in Tennessee Williams Orpheus Descending and Jean Genet’s The Balcony.
His style was matched by his physique — a packed torso would spring aggressively from a relaxed gait, wanderings would turn to remarkable acrobatics. The ballet critic Arlene Croce once wrote that “among all his qualities the one he was loved for, his reposeful violence, is still there. In the midst of a spasm his center is always calm. And in the midst of calm he appears ready to explode.”
A life of rebellion and itchy feet went alongside his remarkable career. Born 2 February 1923, his family was ingrained in the arts. His father was an eye-doctor, amateur painter, ballet enthusiast and friend of Picasso. He was sent to ballet school — the best — at 13, and within a context of anti-semitism departed for Monte Carlo where he led his troupe by the age of 16.
Paris remained his home and artistic base throughout his life, but he would leave spontaneously to go travelling on his motorbike. These trips would last for days and occasionally his cat would accompany him. He rode until he was 85, once crossing the Maghreb Desert in North Africa. He would regularly be seen turning up at the rehearsal studio in a leather jacket saying “without fun, there is no dance”.
Whether his passion was directed towards resistance, exploration or dance, he was able to channel a revolutionary edge to every part of his life. Like many, his spirit engaged with death in the aftermath of military threat, and through his skill and creativity, it affected so many who witnessed its expression.
Correction: The original article stated Mr Babilée died on 30 Septemeber when in fact he died on the same day in January 2014.
